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Naz'gramin
=Naz'gramin's Journal= How I Joined the Horde Many years ago, the Lordaeron Alliance made their way through the Dark Portal. They killed every demonic orc they found. One day, an army of humans, led by wizards of Dalaran, raided an orcish village. They killed as many as they could. The humans looked in the buildings, finding anything worth looting. Several footmen came across me... three years of age. Out of fear, I raised my hand and fire materialized within it and flew at one of the soldiers, scorching his armor. They wanted to kill me, however the two wizards stopped them. They ordered the footmen back to camp, and the two of them teleported to Dalaran with me in their arms. The mages presented me to their council, saying that I was a gifted sorcerer and explained what I was able to do at my young age. A few of the archmagi were skeptical of teaching me to hone my arcane skills, however they eventually all agreed, saying that they wanted to experiment on the magical abilities of an orc more thoroughly. The mages then surrounded me, and all started casting a spell... I closed my eyes, then opened them. I... I was much older. It was a growth-enhancement spell that made me mature faster every day. Regardless of the reason why they wanted to teach me, my mentor was quite kind. He not only instructed me on magic, but also on literature and compassion. Rodyn, his name was, believed that anyone can work together, no matter their race. “The mistakes of the father must not be punished on the son,” was what he would say. For me, it was almost literally. He named me “Naz'gramin” which meant “good omen” in orcish (of which he didn't know too much of). One day, I heard that the Horde was supposedly reforming. I feared that I would be executed in belief that I was some sort of spy. Although, the magi knew this was a stupid thought on account that I had been within the Violet Citadel for almost the entirety of my life. I thought that perhaps I could convince this “New Horde” that conquest was not the path of our people. Master Rodyn told me that he had once visited Draenor in visions and dreams before the orcs invaded Azeroth. He told me how we were once a peaceful hunter-gatherer race before we had becoming rampaging barbarians. One night, I managed to cast a subtlety spell on myself and escaped Dalaran. Although, I knew in my heart that Master Rodyn saw me escaping the minute I left my dorm. He let me leave, and I thank him for that. After approximately two weeks of traveling, I found a camp of orcs. A larger orc with black armor and an equally large hammer sat with the orcs, obviously the leader. I approached and attempted to speak in Orcish, but failed. The large orc chuckled, and spoke to me in fluent Common, “You were not raised by orcs, were you?” I shook my head, “Neither was I. I am Thrall, Warchief of the New Horde.” I bowed and said, “I am Naz'gramin.” I did not say much else because I didn't want them to use me as some sort of secret weapon. An orc with glowing red eyes looked at me, “I smell magic on him.” “I was taught how to use magic,” I admitted. “Humans found me when I was a child, and I was take back to Dalaran to be taught the ways of the arcane.” The larger orc grunted, “Interesting... Do you wish to join us?” “No.” I said bluntly, “But I do not want you to make a new war. Humans are good people. And this is not the path for us. The orcs are not a war-mongering race hellbent on bloodlust! We are a peaceful people that live out our lives in hunting and shamanistic beliefs!” Thrall laughed, “You are a good man, Naz'gramin. I must explain to you that we do not want a new war. We just want to live out our lives in the old ways.” I blinked, dumbstruck. “I'll ask again, do you wish to join us?” I nodded. “Welcome to the Horde!” Thrall said as he and the other orcs around the campfire cheered. Why I Took Up Demonology Time passed, as did battles. I assisted in the liberation of several interment camps, and so-on. One day, I met an orc. His eyes glowed red like the orc at the camp the day I joined the New Horde. He told me that he was a warlock... a fallen shaman that wielded corrupted arcane magic. He explained that he was fooled into this form of power by the lies of Kil'jaeden, and he hated himself for it. He told me that now he uses his powers against demons. I asked how, on account that there hadn't been any demons present, and he replied that there are many threats that remain hidden to the average eye. Master Rodyn taught me about demons and how they can be secretive and unnoticeable. I just nodded. “You know,” the old warlock said, “my death nears. I know it. I hope that the ancestors forgive me for what atrocities I have committed. However, the Horde will be without a demon fighter. You have knowledge of the arcane... I could teach you some skills, and perhaps you could fulfill my role.” “That is definitely an interesting offer,” I said as I thought, “but I would not pride myself in using demonic powers.” “It's for the good of the world. Human, Elf, Dwarf, Orc, and otherwise will benefit from this extra protection,” argued the warlock. “Very well, teach me.” And so the old warlock did. Then, one day as he said, he passed in his sleep. It was now upon my shoulders to protect the Horde from it's former demonic counterparts. To Kalimdor Numerous years passed. Thrall rallied the liberated orcs, and we set sail into the open seas to reach the new land known as Kalimdor. Along the way, we foolishly ran into the Maelstrom, a storm in the center of the world that never stopped. We stopped on a stretch of isles for rest. There we met the Darkspear Tribe, a tribe of jungle trolls that were banished for Stranglethorn Vale and were being harassed by murlocs and humans from Kul Tiras. We liberated them from their harsh home, and took them with us as we continue on our treacherous voyage. We crash-landed on Kalimdor, all split apart from eachother. The group I was with, and I, were unconscious for several hours. We awoke, and started trekking along the plains we had arrived on. My group, consisting of six Grunts, two Shaman, and three trolls came across a group of pig-men sitting around a fire, cooking what appeared to be horse-remains. One Grunt approached the pig-men. They quickly jumped, and raised their weapons. My group charged at them, mowing-down the beasts. We continued moving west, away from the shore, where we found an army of fellow orcs and trolls fighting alongside a large group of bipedal bovines against a war band of horse-men. A shaman in the group yelled, “Lok'tar!” and we all charged into the skirmish. The bovines, who called themselves “Tauren”, thanked us for our assistance, and their leader, an old tauren by the name of “Cairne Bloodhoof”, offered to take Warchief Thrall to this being known as “The Oracle.” Now, I hadn't the slightest idea of who or what the Oracle was, or why Thrall was interested in him, but I followed him nonetheless. Thrall led an army of orcs, trolls, an tauren through the region now known as the Barrens to find a safe place for the latter. Days passed, and the Horde, Alliance, and a race that called themselves “night elves”, formed a coalition under the eye of this “Oracle”, a powerful human mage known as Medivh, against the Burning Legion. I was no expert of orcish lore at that time, but from stories I were told, along with explanations at the time, the Burning Legion was a vast, practically unlimited, army of demons bent on destruction of worlds. For years, I have been practicing my demonic arts, and I am proud that I now I have chance to use them against their creators. I gathered all my books left behind by my warlock mentor, and began studying each spell closely. Battle for Mount Hyjal Then the day came. Large Alliance, Horde, and Night Elf camps were built on the mountain known as Hyjal, with the fabled World Tree atop it. Everyone was silent. From human, to orc, to night elf, not a word was uttered... then the ground began trembling. Through the forest, I was able to see a massive legion of monstrosities charging up the mountain. The human soldiers raised their shields, the night elf archers loaded their bows, the orc shaman spoke to the elements. I was told to listen to the orders of the human and high elven magi, and cast the spells that were similar to their own. “Blizzard!” one elder high elf yelled. Giant shards of ice began falling from the clouds onto the hordes of of demons. I did not know the words to this mage spell very well, so I casted a spell that worked in a similar way. I raised my hand to the sky, began muttering words in a language known as “Eredun”, and large balls of fire began raining from the sky. The torrent of ice and fire showered the waves of demons relentlessly, however, there were still innumerous left. Thrall, a male night elf known as “Malfurion”, and several human commanders, yelled “Charge!” in unison as the war horns sounded from all about. Soldiers of all races charged forward and collided with the demonic foot soldiers. War machines of all creation fired upon the demons, destroying groups of them, leaving spots in the armies that were quickly filled by more demons. The allied armies were being pushed back. I casted any spell I knew that would destroy a group of demons. In the distance, I saw a large being approach. His skin was blue, his eyes were an eerie green, and he stood on two strong, bovid legs with hooves on the bottom. His hands were facing forward, and his mouth seemed to be muttering words. My eyes widened in horror. From what I could read of his lips, his spell was warlock magic and it was going to wipe out anything he points his hands at. “Move!” I yelled to everyone around me, “Move! That demon is going to kill us all!” I shoved a human mage near me, and pointed in the demon's direction. His eyes widened as well, and quickly helped me in herding the army. It slowly began splitting apart. I looked back towards the demon, and he had finished chanting. He had one hand held side ways above his hand, then sent it crashing down towards the allied army. Along his finger tips, eerie green fire erupted, creating a trail of fire where he pointed. It wiped out demons and mortals alike. A wall of fire blocked us from the trail he had created. The demon then walked along the trail, and towards the world tree. The mages, night elf druids, and shaman did what they could to put out the fire, but nothing could be done. The blue demon then reached the World Tree. My heart sank, thinking that we had lost. Then, in the distance, I heard a low horn. And in the sky I saw a stream of light flow towards the demon. He attempted to swat it away, but it persisted, then... detonated. The demon commander was destroyed, but so did the World Tree. Nothing happened to us, whereas the Legion armies began retreating. Everyone cheered. The day was ours. =Personality= In contrary to the Warlock populous, Naz'gramin is quite kind. He treats others with respect, however that's not always returned. Many orcs dislike Naz'gramin due to his practice of demonic arts. He explains to everyone why he does it, but they do not always listen. They just look at the black-and-white view of fel magic. Although, after the stories he heard about what the warlocks did to Draenor, he doesn't blame other orcs for their discontent. He has established that it is because they fear him. Forsaken Naz'gramin isn't the biggest fan of Forsaken. He doesn't trust them, especially with the darker secrets he's uncovered and the fact that they "joined" the Horde for "convenience." Naz'gramin believes that sometime in the future, the Forsaken will betray the Horde. For this reason, he never lets himself befriend any undead. Knowing that, sometime in the future, the Forsaken will turn on him and their other "allies." =Friends= Naz'gramin does not have many friends. One exception is the orc Grunt Nokral, whom he had befriended during the arrival on Kalimdor. Like most orcs, Nokral looked down upon Naz'gramin, however Nokral wasn't as close-minded on the subject of Warlocks as most other orcs. The two eventually became allies, and look upon eachother for help.